


Leave Me Alone (don't leave me alone)

by TrustMeNot



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Flashbacks, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hunk (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Hurt Lance (Voltron), I cant handle that myself, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Insecurity, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Male Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mentions of Immigration, Minor Injuries, No Deaths btw, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Pre-Series, Pre-Voltron: Legendary Defender, Protective Keith (Voltron), Serious Injuries, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Supportive Hunk, Supportive Keith, The Garrison is originally a college, Triggers, altho the klance is implied, and, but only when Lance first meets her, cuz then it's, its mostly Shiro caring for his son™, oh btw, supportive paladins, supportive pidge, supportive shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 03:16:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12998676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrustMeNot/pseuds/TrustMeNot
Summary: Lance groans in pain, holding his injuries.He thinks he'll black out from the impacts but it's not before he feels time melt; the way it always does when he knows something's gone horribly wrong.That's when he starts to feel hot.His head is burning with a throb that lets him know how fast his heart is beating.His fingers feel hot for other reasons as they now clutch the skin between his ribs just above where the bottle first struck.The heat is liquid.It's thick.It's blood.OrThe paladins find out that most of Lance's scars aren't from battles against the Galra, but instead from the battles he fought before Voltron.





	Leave Me Alone (don't leave me alone)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, first off, I'd like to warn you guys about the triggers (though I'm sure you guys read the tags, but just in case) :  
> -Past Child Abuse  
> -Slight Gore  
> Secondly, title credits go to TØP, specifically the lyrics come from the song [Kitchen Sink](https://youtu.be/3Ez7vi-kQdM)  
> Thirdly, this piece, though very Lance-centric, doesn't have much spanish. Anything that actually is in spanish are just nicknames. But I didn't write in spanish because I thought it was easier for you guys not to fret over the translations, but as a disclaimer I'd like to address that I am hispanic and I DO know spanish. I actually based a lot of Lance's backstory from real life situations that I've witnessed and/or was told about.  
> And lastly, I love my precious bby Lance, but unfortunately, I love seeing him in pain too. Whoops.  
> So here, have this.

He heard the sound before he felt the pain.

His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, his body felt like a stranger's. He could see everything but only felt the pain numbly, like it was far from him but still his to bear. 

Everything that followed was a blur. The shouts, the screams, the creak of the floorboards, he could hear it all. But his vision was dimming. He didn't know what was going on around him.

And that terrified him, regardless of his pains and injuries.

But even if he didn't feel the physical pain entirely, he definitely felt the pang of worry. It constricted his chest as if it were a boa and it had wrapped itself around his torso, suffocating him, crushing his ribs. It hurt more than any of his physical pain.

 

Unfortunately, he felt  _everything_ when he woke.

 

Ricardo hovered over his beaten form, directly in his line of sight, guilt written all over his face.

Despite this, Lance cracked a pained smile to his younger brother. "Hey, Budd." he greeted groggily.

Tears swelled in the preteen's eyed. "Thank God, you had us so worried." He heard Camila's voice say somewhere above him.

Lance went to sit up, but he felt a hand on his forehead push him down.

"You shouldn't move too much, Lance. You may have gotten another concussion." Camila chided gently, letting his head fall back on her lap.

"I'm fine," he said, waving her off. "I was just gonna go grab a drink." He explained, attempting to sit up again.

It was Ricardo who pushed him down this time. Lance frowned, but Ricardo didn't acknowledge it. "Papá is still downstairs." He said softly.

Lance glanced at the bedside alarm clock.

9.37 pm.

Sensing his confusion, Anita crawled towards him on their shared mattress and curled up at his side.

"He passed out cold on the couch before he had a chance to go out." Camila stated.

"How long has he been like that?"

Camila stroked his hair, "Since he knocked you unconscious."

Lance sighed of relief.

Good. The man hadn't brought harm to his siblings. But just to confirm, he asked, "Are you guys alright?"

Ricardo frowned, "Yes, but you aren't."

Lance shrugged, "Better me than you, Ricky." He chuckled, ruffling his younger brother's hair.

Ricardo's frown became more of a pout. "Lance, you could be really hurt. We could only try to fix anything we saw on the outside, but what if you have internal injuries? With all those kicks... If only I hadn't..." He trailed off, rubbing his arms.

Lance placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, his normally goofy face full of seriousness, "It wasn't your fault, Rick." he said, blue eyes locking together. "I would never blame you for what happened. If I had to blame anyone it would be Papá. The - _idiot_ -" he censored, "doesn't know a thing about raising kids."

Camila hummed in agreement.

"But I am still worried about your head wound, Lance." She said, adjusting the damp towel they had put on his forehead. "Maybe we should call Gabriel and let him take you to the hospital."

Lance would have shaken his head if it didn't hurt so much.

"No. He already suspects too much. We can't risk him finding out. If he does, he'll tell someone and you know what'll happen then."

She sighed but Anita was the one who mumbled softly, "We'll be put in foster care. "

Ricardo's eyes watered. "I- I don't want to be separated." He looked at Lance, "But I don't want you to get hurt anymore."

Lance pursed his lips and brought Ricardo to his side, hugging both of his siblings in either arm, Camila still holding his injured head in her lap.

"Don't worry about it, Bud. We'll figure it out." He looked up at Camila, "As soon as I get a job, Camila and I will be able to pay for an apartment and we can get out of here. In a few months she'll be eighteen. We'll fight to win custody over you two. We'll be alright."

"Have you tried the Café downtown? I noticed they were hiring." Camila asked.

Lance smiled, "I applied for the job a week ago. Fingers crossed I get the job. They offer a scholarship too! So, if I do get it, there's a chance I can finally go to college." He said, a twinkle of hope in his eyes.

Anita squirmed in his hold. "You're gonna leave us?" She asked.

Lance's heart cracked a little at the sound of her saddened voice. He sighed, "Of course not, princesa. I'll be around for as long as you need me to be." He bent over a little and kissed her forehead.

"We'll be alright." He repeated, rubbing Ricky's arm. "I promise."

* * *

 

Being the oldest, Lance had a lot of responsibility.

One of the many being to protect his younger siblings with his life.

He would take a bullet for them any day.

So it wasn't much of a surprise when he woke up in a hospital bed, his siblings around him with exhausted eyes and concerned creases in their brows.

Anita gasped, "He's awake!"

In an instant, all eyes were on him.

His throat felt like sandpaper, but he managed to croak out, "H-hey, guys."

His siblings practically tackled him in a hug. "Careful with his ribs!" Camila fussed, though she too had reached over the metal bar on the side of the bed to hug the life out of him.

In the corner of the room, he noticed a hovering figure.

Lance raised a brow, "Gabriel?"

The older male tipped his head and kicked himself off the wall. "Hey, Lance. Glad to see you're alright."

Lance tensed, "Thanks, man."

Gabriel walked toward the group, arms crossed. "Mind going over what happened?" He asked, watching as his smaller cousins removed themselves from Lance.

Camila looked between the two cousins before deciding to take the younger ones to the cafeteria of the hospital.

When the kids left, the two males remained quiet.

Lance was trying to find a good excuse as Gabriel waited patiently.

"I got into a fight again." He said at last.

Gabriel hummed, "Really? With who?"

Lance felt bile rise in his throat. "A guy that was hitting on Camila."

Gabriel nodded. "You've gotten better at lying, I'll tell you that, flaco."

Lance sighed. "Listen, Gabriel--'

"No, no, _you_ listen, Lance. You are putting these poor children in danger. I get it, you like the whole _hero_ thing, but--"

"Whoa, whoa. Hold up. _'Hero thing'_? First of all, Gabriel, I don't do any of this," he gestured to his body, "for titles or pride. Secondly, don't accuse me of things you have no knowledge on."

Gabriel frowned, "Then why are you doing this? Why haven't you called the cops yet? I get that you're an immigrant, but I'm sure they won't send you back. They won't have to find out unless you're an idiot and make them suspect."

Lance's fists clenched at his sides, "Gabriel. Do you know how important my family is to me?" His cousin's mouth opened, but Lance wasn't looking for an answer. "Anita is only six. Ricardo is excelling on the baseball team. Camila is almost out of school. _I'm_ not going to be the reason their lives fall apart. They'll be put in Foster Care as soon as they find out my mom's been deported and that my drunk ass father is the worst kind of drunk. And the only way _that_ can happen is if we slip up or if someone tells."

His jaw clenched but his tone softened. "I do it all for them, Gabe."

Gabriel looked pissed. "So what do you plan on doing, stupid? Raise them all until they're out of the house and then try to rebuild your own life?"

"I don't care, I'll do what I have to. I can attend college and care for them at the same time. If I have to raise them as my own then so be it. They have their whole lives ahead of them, Gabriel."

His cousin looked a little more concerned now. "You really love them, don't you?"

Lance looked at his hands. "More than anything." He mumbled.

Gabriel sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Lance... I just..." he groaned, "What if you get really hurt? Like, a permanent injury of some sort or worse... _What if he kills you?"_

Lance raised his head to meet Gabe's eyes. "I would gladly die for any of them. If that's what it takes to keep them safe... and together..."

Gabriel got up from his seat and placed a hand on Lance's shoulder. "You're a good person, Lance. If you're so insistant on this--"

"I am."

"--then... then I won't tell anyone. As long as you promise to keep them and youself safe. If you need anything, I'm right here."

Lance smiled, "Thank you, primo."

Gabriel nodded.

"Oh by the way," Lance looked down at his sheets. "How bad are the injuries?"

Sucking in a breath through his teeth, Gabriel said, "Well... Two broken ribs, a head injury, though it's not internal. Uh, I think she said something about your forearm being broken too."

Lance sighed, "Yeah, well, the drugs must be high quality. I can't feel shit."

His cousin laughed.

Lance pouted and cocked his head, "What?" He asked comically, followed by a funny smile.

Gabriel just shook his head. "What are we going to with you, flaco?"

Lance settled back in his pillows, "By all means you are welcome to throw me off a bridge."

"I'll keep that in mind. Sleep with one eye open." He replied, pulling his jacket on.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Lance squawked.

"Oh nothing..." His older cousin said innocently, opening the hospital door.

"Where you going?"

"Imma go see if the kids are alright. I'll tell the nurses that you're awake."

"Alright," Lance said, "see you later."

"Yeah, see ya."

When the door closed behind him, Lance sighed longingly.

"You better keep your promise, Gabriel."

* * *

 

"Guys! _Guys!_ Oh MY _GOD!"_ Lance rushed to the living room, tripping over his two feet, eyes focused on the mail in front of him.

Camila looked up from where she braided Anita's hair. Ricky, beside her, paused his video game.

Camila cocked a brow in curiousity. "What's up?"

Lance bounced excitedly, finally riping his eyes from the letter in his hands, only to turn it towards his siblings.

 _"I got in."_ He bit on his bottom lip as he watched Camila's face of recognition wash over.

"No. Way." She said, her jaw dropping as her hands let go of her younger sister's hair to grab at the paper.

 _"No. Way."_ She repeated, her lips twitching into a bright smile. Immediately she removed Anita from her lap and tackled Lance in a hug, "Oh my God, congratulations!" She cried out.

Lance was caught off guard and pushed back slightly, startled, but hugged back when he processed what she had done.

His other siblings were confused, but seeing Camila this excited made them join the hug.

Camila and Lance were joyfully crying together. 

Ricky caught up with the celebration about and congratulated his brother over and over.

Anita just obliviously celebrated, happy because the others were.

"We should celebrate!" Camila suggested, grabbing her purse.

Lance shook his head, "It's on me. You need to save up for college."

Camila frowned. "Oh c'mon! We're celebrating over _you!_ You're not supposed to pay."

Lance grabbed his car keys. "Nope. Not happening. I'm paying and that's final. Now let's go." He said, picking up Anita and placing her on his shoulders.

Camila rolled her eyes but smiled genuinely. How did she get so lucky to have a brother like him?

* * *

 

" _You can't have a rainbow without a little rain."_

If Lance was payed for everytime he thought back to that quote, he'd be rich. That is to say, he thinks about it too much because more often than not, he finds himself saying that. To his siblings. To his cousins. To himself.

When he says it to others, it usually with a supportive smile and a warm hug.

When he says it to his siblings, it's a form of comfort.

When he says it to himself, he's trying to convince himself that it's true.

His siblings and him, over the course of the last two weeks, have been sneaking their personal belongings out the door to the new apartment, hoping their father wouldn't take notice in his consant drunken state.

However, now, he's snuck back into the house to retrieve one last thing.

Anita's stuffed rabbit.

His mother had given it to her when she was really young, and typically, the girl always has it tucked in her arms; like it's the air she breathes and she simply can't let go.

So, when she cries at the new apartment, saying she's left it at home, Lance's heart aches.

It's one of the only things Anita has to remind her of her mother and of course Lance can't say no to going into the pouring rain, into a drunken man's house at nine in the night, just to go get it for her.

He finds himself, at the moment, crawling up the stairs, hoping they don't creak under his weight as the male - biologically his father (gross) - on the couch swigs his beer, leaning over to watch a soccer game with lazed interest.

He manages to get upstairs, and after rumaging through empty closets, he finds it. Good, he doesn't want to spend more time than he has to here.

He turns around, halting immediately at the sight in front of him.

He swallows hard, rabbit clutched in his left hand.

His dad watches him, head tilted, eyes red rimmed, watery and glazed, bottle at his side, empty and Lance wonders how the hell a drunken man could sneak up on him so silently?

He speaks- in Spanish, of course - "What are you doing?" He asks, nose scrunched slightly.

Lance replies back in the same language. "Getting Anita's rabbit. She needs it to sleep."

The man sways, "Where is she?"

Lance again, swallows the bile forming in his throat. He clears it. "Why do you care?"  
_Nice one, idiot. Now he'll really beat your ass._

"What's that supposed to mean?" The drunk asks in annoyance. "Where is my daughter? What did you do with her?" He seethes, but it's hard to tell if it's because he's angry or if it's because he can't control his - _anything_ \- and his jaw is slack.

Lance winces. The way his father says it sounds like he--

"You kidnapped her didn't you!" He growls, "Where is my daughter! Give her back, you piece of shit!" He lunges.

Lance sidesteps, watching the man stumble, "She doesn't belong here! You treat her and the rest of them terribly! They don't need to grow up in such an abusive home, like I did!"

His father simply lunges again, "She's mine! I do what I want! Give her back!" He lands a blow on Lance stomach with the glass bottle and knocks the wind out of him.

Faster than a drunk man should be able to move, his father breaks the bottle over Lance's head.

Lance groans in pain, holding his injuries.

He thinks he'll black out from the impacts but it's not before he feels time melt; the way it always does when he knows something's gone horribly wrong.

That's when he starts to feel hot. His head is burning with a throb that lets him know how fast his heart is beating. His fingers feel hot for other reasons as they now clutch the skin between his ribs just above where the bottle first struck.

The heat is liquid. It's thick. It's blood.

He tries to speak but suddenly, he's spewing blood too, coughing it up as he heaves for a breath.

His quickly darkening vision watches his father leave with a scowl, nothing but anger on his face.

It's too late he realizes he's been impaled by the stupid glass bottle.

And though he's bleeding out and likely dying, he's more concerned over what's on his stomach rather than what's coming out that shouldn't be (because blood is supposed stay _inside,_ shouldn't it?).

Anita's rabbit.

His lips pull into a frown as he starts to cry; he ruined her favorite toy. Her best friend. The reminder of their mother... he's soaked it with his blood, tainting it nearly black.

He cries weakly, his hands shakily moving the rabbit so that it's no longer on his stomach. He doesn't want to ruin it more than he has.

He thinks to himself, he's failed her. She'll probably cry all night now, not being able to sleep without her stuffed animal. And it's his careless fault.

But as his eyes dim faster, he allows them to shut.

Maybe... maybe if he _does_ survive this... he'll get her a new one. Hell, he'll go back to his country to get one personally from his mom. He'd do it... for her. Even if it means he, too, will be forced to stay there due to immigration until he can get his legal papers to come back, which may take years. He'd do it.

So he smiles to himself.

You can't have a rainbow without a little rain.

* * *

 

Everything is blurry.

He sees his father with a pair of scissors, feels a hand at his neck, pinning him to a wall.

His eyes blur more, he hears the snip of the scissors... at his hair? Why... why his hair?

Then he feels the blades loosely at his cheeks, before they're pressed harshly into his skin.

He's confused, but his vision fades out and he passes out again, eyes fluttering shut.

* * *

 

When he wakes up again, his vision is still blurry, but he catches a bit more this time.

The sound of a stretcher, an ambulance, police too in the distance. He hears Camila sobbing, Anita wailing, he can't hear Ricky.

_"He's loosing too much blood, wrap his wounds faster!"_

_"We don't have time to loose people!"_

_"C'mon, c'mon! Wheel him in!"_

Voices he doesn't recognize.

The night sky moves above him, rain crying onto his skin as he hears the rush of people.

The sound of static. _"We've got a nineteen year old boy severely wounded, sister says his name is Lance McClain, he's 5'9, weighs roughly a hundred thirty five pounds, injuries include various unrecognizable cuts on the face, impale in the abdomens with a glass bottle, definite broken ribs, his lungs are punctured; Labeled as a traumatic pneumothorax, prepare an emergency and a surgery room for him immediately."_

The static sound is heard again, with the scratches of someone's reply.

Lance can bearly concentrate, there's too many sounds, his body feels like it's on fire but simultaneously numb, his head pounds with such a ferocity he can't help but close his eyes with pain.

He fades out again.

* * *

 

Lance has always made a fool of himself in school and, of course, that doesn't change when he joins the Garrison.

Except, people usually talk about him because he's either: A) Made a funny joke. Or B) Failed something horribly. But it's never been, what now is C) Because he's out of school for three weeks due to personal issues.

Everyone within a twenty five mile radius knows now about his abusive father in less than a week. Then, Camila shows him the newspaper as he sits recovering in a hospital bed.

The same day his mother calls.

He's on the news.

Fucking Gabriel.

Camila says he was forced to tell the truth to the officers about his information. He would have been charged for keeping it a secret, but Camila convinced the police that Lance had made him swear.

So, by default, Lance could get in serious trouble.

And as much as he wants to blame Gabriel, he knows this mess is all his selfish fault alone.

The court, God bless them, decides, his reasoning is with good intention, and though he could have died, at least he was trying originally to keep his family safe from his father. They grant him permission to care for his younger siblings as long as Camila and him have a job.

He swears on his life he'll always provide for them, care for them like they are his own.

His mother cries on he other end of the phone, apologizing over and over that she couldn't get them out of that house before she was deported. When she says it's her fault, Lance is quick to comfort her, saying that he understood; he knows she could have never managed the expenses of four children without that ass-wipe's help. Especially when they were younger and couldn't help with the money.

She eventually calms, and after she's hung up, Lance cries.

He wishes she were here. He could really use one of her loving hugs right now, even with broken ribs and a healing surgery.

* * *

 

A year later, Lance is twenty, healed physically, his unevenly cut choppy hair grown out, he's excited and ready to leave school for the weekend.

And his excitement only increases when Iverson says they'll have an assignment next week. To practice, for those pilots who plan on going to space, they were going to practice being in a shuttle for a week.

Lance could hardly wait. A whole week with his friends, Hunk and Pidge - well, Pidge was kinda closed off, but he was cool. Very smart, if his notes and grades were anything to go by.

But Iverson then says that the week after, they will be living in dorms; the college is becoming a boarding school.

He gets confused. Don't they have a say in this matter? But he remembers the pamphlet he was given in the beginning, saying this information to inform them before they enroll.

Lance frowns. He should have looked into that a bit more.

When he gets home he tells his siblings, trying to form a plan to make this work because this is Lance's _dream_ and Camila wants him to be happy. They all do.

They settle on him coming home every weekend, helping them buy groceries, pay bills and clothing by working part time at the school library and the small town café on the weekends.

Yeah, he can do this. He will be there to help them, always. Until the day he dies.

Which - according to the Garrison - happens in a few months.

In reality, he's sitting in the observatory of the castle, light years away from home, worrying over their well being, and just _them_ in general.

He misses them so badly it physically hurts him, which makes his scar burn. He traces it with his thumb, his hand cold on his warm stomach.

He hopes they're still together.

* * *

 

The glass flickers, fades to blue.

He falls out of the pod, his teammates there to catch him.

They all cry out his name, his eyes blinking to focus.

"Hey guys," he rasps out, a weak smirk on his face.

Shiro helps him stand from where his weight is limp on Keith and him.

He's surprised Keith is holding him up. Usually, he just stands in the corner when it comes to grouping closely. But here he is, right next to Shiro before him.

They all have somber expressions on their faces.

Lance laughs half-heartedly. "Who died?" He asked playfully, but he winces when he hears Pidge's light voce, airy and on the verge of breaking.

"You almost did."

Lance feels the air leave his lungs. "W-what?"

Shiro looks at him concerned, a paw-like hand settling on Lance's broad shoulders, "What do you remember?"

Lance thinks about it for a while. "I - I remember our mission to invade the Galra ship..."

Keith's worried voice shocks him, "What about Haggar? Do you remember what she did?"

Lance is about to shake his head when it all rushes back to him like a punch to the gut. And he knows from experience how that feels.

He stumbled back, hitting the pod he's emerged from, holding his head as his brows furrow with pain.

"Ah," he groans, "fuck." He breaths heavily. "She - she-"

Shiro rushes to his side, hands out to calm Lance.

"Easy there. Breath in, Lance, and breath out. In and out, that's it. In... and out." He doesn't touch the blue paladin, afraid to trigger a flashback.

Lance follows his example, never meeting his eyes because it's too late. The flashback has kicked in.

There are flashes of the purple, horrifying witch, hands in the air like a puppeteer controlling a dummy. He re-lives the shock of her electric power, shivering as a chill crawls down his spine.

He finds his breath again, gasping, clutching at the air until he finds Shiro's vest and _tugs_.

It pulls him out of his flashback, tears pooling in his eyes as he pulls the black paladin forward.

Shiro is startled, but allows him in realization as Lance begins to sob and shoves his face into his shoulder.

He sympathizes for him, he understands on a deeper level than his comrads what it's like to be in their situation. To have gone through somehing like that. But after watching Lance's memories, he's not sure he understands the profoundness of the pain this poor _boy_ has always felt.

He's just a _boy_. No matter if he's classified as an adult legally, he's grown up much too fast and so, he never got to experience a good childhood. He may act childish around the castle, but Shiro realizes the reason behind that now.

He _wants_ to be a boy again. He _yearns_ for that childish innocence he once had and tries to live it out in a place where he has no need to be responsible for everything.

So, in Shiro's eyes, he still a _boy_. He should be back home, spoiled by his mother's love, hugged by his sibblings, living his life to the fullest, not here; a place where he's so far from everything he's ever worked for, protecting the entire universe, risking his life that has been so shortly lived.

He recognizes now that Lance does all those beauty routines to cover and heal the scars on his face.

He asks Allura if he could braid her hair because it reminds him of his sister Camila.

He paints his and (insists on doing) Pidge's nails because Anita always asked him to do it.

He messes with Keith because his brother, Ricardo, did the same to him. And that's all he knows to show he cares. He's never known any other way.

So he allows the boy to let it out, crying on his shoulder, clutching Shiro's vest like it's his life line.

He thinks back to the running joke about him being a "dad" figure in their peculiar group. Now all he can think of doing it fulfilling the title for Lance. He'll be the father Lance never had, he'll be the shoulder for him to cry on. Literally and metaphorically. And as he looks at Keith, he recognizes the same look in his eyes.

He supposes Keith will have another way of approaching the situation, but nonetheless, he'll care for Lance. Perhaps like a brother but, if the stubborn paladin ever confesses, maybe something more.

Shiro smiles sadly, rubbing Lance's back.

The younger male whimpers, "Please... don't leave me alone."

Shiro's heart breaks. He presses his lips to Lance's soft hair.

"Never, Lance."

The group eventually forms around them, crying and holding Lance to them closely.

Allura apologizes a lot before joining them, and Coran follows suit.

Haggar was going to pay, for sure, but in a sick, twisted way, Shiro was greatful she showed them Lance's past. There were so many things that they needed to fix in this team - in this _family_. And it was going to start with apologies.

Lance needed this.

They all needed this.

It wasn't going to be easy, but they'd get through it together.

"You'll never be alone again, Lance. I promise."

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on [tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/voicecrackismyaesthetic)  
> Hah, I reflect off of this piece so much :')
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


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